"On the night of July 12th we were treated to a new form of gas, 'mustard oil.' The two Companies billeted in Ypres suffered heavily, the casualties numbering 3 officers and 114 other ranks." Thus the Lancashire Fusiliers' Annual. The following letter, which I wrote in the Ramparts, on July 13, after alluding to the working party recorded at the end of the last chapter, describes that great bombardment of Ypres:

"On Wednesday evening (July 11) I had had a working party, with Sergeant Clews, in the front line. Dickinson had a party on my right. The work was: repair of parapet and parados knocked in by recent shelling. While we were at it the Germans sent over trench-mortars, a kind of shell which rises to a great height, looking like a burning snake, and then descends and pierces right into the earth, exploding underneath and sending the earth above it in all directions. The men all crouched against the parapet with a certain amount of wind up; but they were well to our left. Giffin, who had a party some distance to our left, said that they were about ten yards to his right. He and his party were covered with dirt when one of them exploded. Dickinson and I ceased work about 1 a.m. and returned. While returning, a thick mist came on. Dickinson's party was in front; my party following behind his. It was all we could do to keep in touch; and we almost lost the way. The party in front kept halting while Dickinson tried to find the way; then they would go on at a great speed, so much so that we had to run to catch up, floundering into shell-holes; the men were cursing and swearing, each thinking that he knew the way himself: on the whole it was a box-up; but, as usual, we got home all right eventually. No casualties—two days without any casualties!

"To-day I am Orderly Officer. My period of duty began at 6 p.m. yesterday and continues until 6 p.m. to-day. My chief duty is to see that the road is repaired after shelling. There is a party permanently detailed for the job under Sergeant Baldwin; they do not go out at night because their working hours are from 4 to 9 in the afternoons.

"Captain Blamey, Captain Bodington, Captain Briggs and Gratton were in for dinner yesterday evening. Gratton is now Assistant Adjutant at Headquarters. Every day Colonel Best-Dunkley goes to a certain house (Hasler House at St. Jean) which has an upstairs still left, and, through field-glasses, gazes at the front over which we shall have to advance. On these trips Gratton accompanies him, and has to take bearings and answer silly questions. He says that he is becoming most horribly bored with it all. While they were at it yesterday a shell exploded just by them. Gratton says that he jumped down below as soon as he heard it come; he was hit by one or two bricks and covered with dirt; when he looked round again he expected to find the Colonel done in, but found him safe and sound!

"Yesterday evening Captain Andrews, Giffin, Dickinson and Allen all went out on working parties. I remained behind as Orderly Officer. Captain Briggs and Gratton remained in my dug-out with me. After a while Gratton had to go to Brigade Headquarters next door to discuss a map with the Brigade-Major. Soon after he had left us—about 10.10 p.m.—a terrific shelling of the city began. Shells were bursting everywhere; the ground frequently vibrated as if mines were going off; dumps were blown up; and very soon parts of the city were in flames. It was a sight such as I have never seen before; at times the whole scene was as light as day; the flames encircled the already ruined and broken houses, bringing them to the ground with a rumbling crash. It was a grand and awful sight—a firework display better than any at Belle Vue, and free of charge! The sky was perforated with brilliant yellow light, and the shells were whizzing and crashing all round. The air was thick with sulphur. So much so that we did not smell something much more serious than sulphur. Amidst all the turmoil little gas-shells were exploding all over. As we could not smell the gas we did not take any notice of it. We little dreamt what the results were going to be. We knew not what a revelation the morrow had in store for us!

"At about midnight I went to bed, and at about 6 this morning I heard Giffin returning from his working party. He was muttering something about gas and saying that he would be going sick with it in a few days, but I was too sleepy to take much notice. I rose at 10.30 and made my personal reconnaissance of the road, but only found two very serious shell-holes actually on the road. These I pointed out to Sergeant Baldwin and got his men at them. Then I began to hear things about gas. I saw Corporal Flint (our gas N.C.O.!) being led by Sergeant Donovan and Corporal Livesey in a very bad state; he could hardly walk, his eyes were streaming, and he was moaning that he had lost his eyesight. So I began to inquire as to what was the matter. I was then informed that there had been a whole lot of men gassed. Then Captain Andrews sent for me and questioned me about gas last night. I told him frankly that I had not smelt any. He said that it was very strange, because when he got back early this morning 'the place simply stank of it.' He said that there would be a devil of a row about it; there were about ten casualties already! But, as time went on, the numbers began to grow rapidly. Yet I had not smelt it; the sentry had not smelt it; and the Sergeant-Major had not smelt it! After some time the Colonel appeared on the scene. He informed us that A Company had got seventy-two casualties from last night's gas! (A Company were billeted in the Soap Factory, near the Cathedral.) We felt a little relieved, because we realized that ours was not the only company and by no means the worst; so we could not be held responsible, as we were fearing that we might be—myself in particular, as the only officer on the spot at the time, for not ordering box-respirators on. I, of course, never thought of ordering box-respirators, considering that I smelt no gas myself! The Colonel further told us that three officers in A Company—Walsh, Hickey, and Kerr—were suffering from gas. Hickey is very bad.

"During the day our casualties have risen considerably. They are now twenty-eight, including Corporal Flint, Corporal Pendleton, Corporal Heap, Pritchard, Giffin's servant, and Critchley, my servant. There have been heavy casualties all over the city. The Boche has had a regular harvest if he only knew it! Over a thousand gas-casualties have been admitted to hospital from this city to-day. And many who have not yet reported sick are feeling bad. So much so that the Brigade-Major has agreed that all our working parties, but one small one under Allen, shall be cancelled for to-night. I feel all right. I must have a strong anti-gas constitution. This is a new kind of gas; the effects are delayed; but I do not think I am likely to get it now since I have hardly smelt any yet.

"The Germans are doing the obvious thing—trying to prevent or hinder our forthcoming offensive. I notice that they have attacked near Nieuport and advanced to a depth of 600 yards on a 1400 yards front. I have been expecting an enemy attack here, because it is the best thing the Germans can do if they have any sense; and I have repeatedly said so, but have been told that I am silly, that the Germans dare not attack us because they are not strong enough. For a day I held the view that peace was coming in a week or two! But Bethmann-Hollweg's straightforward declaration that Germany will not make peace without annexations or indemnities, that she is out to conquer, has altered things. We now know exactly how we stand. Germany is still out for grab. Therefore she is far from beaten. Ipso facto, peace is out of the question. The end is not yet in sight. There is still a long struggle before us. I think the forthcoming battle here will be the semi-final: the final will be fought in the East about Christmas or the New Year. Constantinople still remains the key to victory, if victory is to be won by fighting."

My diary of July 13 concludes with the statement: "Captain Briggs's A Company—the remains of it—are coming to these billets to join with us. Gas casualties in Ypres (latest) over 3,000."

It was about this time (in the middle of July) that, in the course of one of my letters to my school-friend, Mr. K. L. P. Martin, then—having been rejected for service in the Army as medically unfit—a student at Manchester University, I had remarked that I would probably get a "Blighty" in a fortnight; and I would, therefore, want something interesting to read in hospital: would he please send me England Since Waterloo, by J. A. R. Marriott, whom I had heard lecturing at the Oxford Union on "The Problem of the Near East," in February, 1916, when I was a recruit in the 29th Royal Fusiliers?

Mr. Martin, who was staying with another friend, Mr. George Fasnacht, at Clayton Bridge, replied as follows:

"The Hollies, Clayton Bridge,
"Manchester.
"July 23rd, 1917.
"Dear Floyd,

"Many thanks for your last letter. So you consider that you are likely to become a casualty in the near future. I hope not. Though, if such an event should take place, I hope it will not be serious and will involve a sojourn in England for at least six months.

"I will order the Marriott at once. I decline to accept it as off the debt I owe you. It will do as a twenty-first birthday present, as I have received no news re Lovat Fraser. As soon as the book comes I will forward it on.

"Teddy[7] and myself had a glorious cycle ride yesterday. We rode to town, took the train to Ashley, then rode to Knutsford via Mobberley. At Knutsford we had tea and then proceeded to Pickmere where we had a row; then on to Great Budworth, Arley, Rostherne and Ashley. The country was glorious, a fine day, good roads, midsummer and Cheshire—the combination needs beating.

"I may say that I am extremely pleased at Churchill going to the Ministry of Munitions.

"Both Teddy and myself intend getting our photos taken this week, and I will forward copies of both to Middleton Junction.
"Best wishes,
"Yours,
"Kenneth Martin."

The Marriott was destined to have a curious history. As these pages will show, I got my "Blighty" in a fortnight all right. Meanwhile the book was on its way from England. It arrived after I had left the shores of France behind, me. I never received it. Kenneth Martin visited me in hospital at Worsley Hall in August and told me that he had sent it. I had to tell him that it had not reached me. When I returned to the Battalion in the spring of 1918, Padre Newman informed me that a book had come out for me after I had been wounded, that he had read it with much interest, and that it was now in the custody of Captain J. C. Latter, M.C. Latter was one of the original 2/5th officers who had been wounded in 1916 and who returned to the Battalion immediately after the Third Battle of Ypres, in August, 1917, and succeeded Reginald Andrews as Adjutant. But when Padre Newman told me this Captain A. H. G. Griggs, M.C., was Adjutant and Latter was away with Sir Herbert Plumer in Italy. However, Latter returned once more in the summer of 1918, and mentioned that he had a book belonging to me; but he disappeared again—first on to the Brigade Staff and then to a Staff job further away—as suddenly as he had reappeared. I did not see him again until we were both once more in civilian clothes, and I called at the Barracks at Bury one August afternoon in 1919. He again mentioned the Marriott, remarking that he had discovered it in his kit in August, 1917, and had not the faintest idea how it had got there!

[7] Edward James Martin, Second-Lieutenant in the Seaforth Highlanders, afterwards killed in action, December 1917.